


Mercy

by JaqofSpades



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 20:19:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3991459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaqofSpades/pseuds/JaqofSpades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The General was right there in his eyes, waiting for her surrender. Merciless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> Written to leni_ba's prompt any/any, m/f, delayed gratification, over at Comment Fic on LJ.

Two years, she's been doing this. Lying low, biting her tongue, never quite knowing if the next stranger in her bed will turn out to be a militia spy. Rosa, and Maxine and once, she'd even been Rachel, the name burning like acid in her blood every time it fell off her lips. But she's a Rebel, and this is the life she chose, all quick, dirty fucks on filthy beds in tumbledown boarding houses.

 

It's a long way from Philadelphia, and the windows open to let the breeze blow long, white curtains over the big iron bed as he made her come, and come, and come.

 

Or not. Sometimes, Miles made her work for it, or even worse, wait for it. Those were the best nights.

 

She rarely saw the man everyone else told her about. The cruel man, the evil one, the General who had consigned an entire city to hell with shrug of his shoulders. The Butcher of Baltimore, they called him, but Nora would come to him after he'd washed away the blood, pink from his bath, a cigar in his mouth and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. Generous. Convivial. Deliciously creative.

 

But those nights, the best ones, he couldn't quite hide who he was. The General was right there in his eyes, waiting for her surrender. Merciless.

 

“Have you had enough?” he would ask, and she would buck against his face, every muscle straining towards release, only to feel that infuriating taunt of a smile. Only to listen to him denying her, even as the coarseness of his eternal five o'clock shadow scraped against her thighs, sensation enough to propel her straight to almost, almost …

 

He'd keep her there for hours. They'd use ropes sometimes, or scarves, and once he'd blindfolded her but it'd fallen kind of flat when she'd realised just how much she got off on just watching him watch her. But mostly, he'd just tell her to be still, to stop, not to touch herself, and she would obey. Even as her thighs shook and her clit throbbed and her empty, hungry sex yearned, the crack of command in his voice never failed to stop her orgasm dead in its tracks.

 

And when he licked a little too lightly, kept his fingers a little too shallow, or blew when he knew she needed him to suck, she'd sing out every secret she'd ever known, love and fear and desperation and lust and let me come, Miles, please, please let me come.

 

(“If you're taken, just tell him everything. Don't even try to resist,” they'd told her when she joined. “The Militia uses an interrogation method developed by the Butcher himself.”)

 

They still called him that, the Rebels. Six years since he'd walked out on Monroe, and Matheson was still the biggest bogeyman in the Republic. If only they knew, Nora thought tiredly, trying not to look at the man walking next to her. She'd never blow his cover – not even his wide-eyed little niece seemed to know – and besides. Do this long enough and she might even be able to forget the General, the way this asshole is bitching about everything from her life choices to the state of her feet.

 

Or, she thinks as he pulls out his sword and explodes into action, maybe two years a Rebel, and two years before that running from herself, and their year of insanity, trying to burn the world down ... maybe those were just the series of jagged breaths before the long, apocalyptic moments of release. The ultimate in delayed gratification.

 

Because Miles Matheson has smashed his way back into her life, and it's just a matter of time until he has her panting on the edge, begging for mercy once again.


End file.
